


We Be Trollin, They Hatin

by penguinparity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinparity/pseuds/penguinparity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After ep 3.01 aired, Jules asked for, "stiles told his dad about werewolves over the summer, and that thing about Chris being a hunter was Sheriff Stilinski trolling the shit out of him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Be Trollin, They Hatin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jmtorres](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmtorres/gifts).



> So this came out a little more serious than trolling. *kanyeshrug* What can I say, the Stilinski men bring out the feels in me.

Stiles is sitting in the front seat of the cruiser when the Sheriff finally leaves the school.  He sighs, rolling his eyes heavenward briefly as if to rehash an old silent argument, ‘he’s _your_ son.’

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” the Sheriff asks as he pulls the driver’s side door open.

“A bunch of birds just tried to do an homage to Hitchcock’s _The Birds_ in my English class.  You really think I’m even remotely capable of focusing on AP US History right now?” Stiles asks, shooting him a flat glance.

“No,” the Sheriff concedes.  “Let me go tell the office.”

“They already know.  Brenner was in the office talking to the new principle when I walked in.  Who do you think unlocked your car?”  The Sheriff looks at his son silently for a moment before sighing again.

“Honestly, I just assumed you’d stolen my keys at some point and made a copy.”

“ _Dad_ ,” Stiles clutches at his chest dramatically to express his thoughts on that.

“It’s not like you haven’t done it before,” the Sheriff replies mildly.  Stiles looks momentarily guilty before his gaze sharpens and he glares at his father.

“Fair, but I’m not doing that anymore.  I promised.”

“Yes, you did,” the Sheriff agrees.

“Speaking of promises,” Stiles says.  Mr. Stilinski suddenly realizes with a calming clarity why his son was waiting in his car instead of jumping into his own jeep and driving home.

“Stiles,” he tries to cut Stiles off, but his son refuses to be deterred.

“You _promised_ , Dad,” Stiles says, looking almost genuinely angry.  “We agreed on one thing.  I told you everything and you wouldn’t go around interrogating people about werewolves.  You’ll only put yourself in danger.”

“Like you’ve already done, you mean,” the Sheriff agrees calmly.  They’ve rehashed this argument numerous times since Stiles came clean to his father earlier in the summer.  He hadn’t believed his son’s bullshit about a rival lacross player nearly beating him to a pulp for even one hot second.  He hadn’t been proud of himself, but all it had taken was a week of carefully listening to Stiles’ hushed conversations with Scott in his room.  Stiles might have learned some of his methods from his father, but even he was no match for the Sheriff when he came in prepared and knowledgeable into an interrogation.

“I can’t believe you said to him,” Stiles groans, silently conceding his father’s point.  His fingers pick restlessly at his jeans.

“Did you see his face?” the Sheriff asks, unable to suppress the chuckle that escapes.

“Like a deer in,” Stiles trails off suddenly, clearly thinking of the earlier accident.  The Sheriff reaches across the divide between them to ruffle his son’s hair.

“From what you’ve told me, I honestly thought he’d have a better poker face,” he says as he withdraws his hand slowly.  Stiles snorts.

“Guess Mr. Argent’s just too used to dealing with stupid teenagers,” Stiles says with a faint smile.

“All the more reason not to go easy on him.”  The Sheriff is surprised by the harshness of his tone.  He reaches out again and palms the back of his son’s head when Stiles blinks at him in surprise.  “You were tortured in his house.  Either Mr. Argent did nothing to stop that or he was too stupid to know what his father was capable of.  Regardless, I’m more than willing to let him squirm a little.”  He looks at his son meaningfully, trying to expressing everything he can’t quite put into words.

“Dad,” Stiles says with a hint of reproach.

“It’s fine if you’re willing to forgive him, Stiles.”  The Sheriff struggles to make sure his tone stays steady.  “But I’m your father, I have a long memory and hold grudges against people who hurt my son.”

Stiles lurches across the space between them so he can hug his father.  When he finally pulls away, his eyes are suspiciously bright.

“Thanks, Dad.  I’ll drive myself home.  See you when I get there?” he asks as he pulls open the passenger door.

“Sure thing, kid,” the Sheriff says fondly.


End file.
